Emotional pain is more damaging.

Physical pain can be shut out by your mind. It's why people can lie on hot coals or lie on a bed of nails. It's why we have pain thresholds.

But you can't do that with emotional pain because the first thing it attacks and disables is your ability to block it. You can't just say...Oh never mind, ha ha...because emotional pain attacks your emotions so you can't control them.

When I saw this challenge I wrote something, which I then realised wasn't suitable for the challenge.

It is here:

https://theprose.com/post/306451/window-pain

The rose hips lay now upon barren thorn, their velvet draping gone-

and see the red breasted soldier sit, to trill the chill of dawn.

But mourn not now, the morn has come, and ere the golden light-

that dance among the hickory and sets the world aright.

The arrant leaves still fall anon, reveling in their dance-

their candy coated splendor show for those who spare a glance.

So hasten now to the spitting flames, around which we huddle tight-

while we spin some scary tales, to give the little ones a fright.

And oh the winds that whip up leaves and tussle up ones hair –

I would dwell always if I could, in my autumn fair.

Your so beautiful. The way you laugh at your own jokes is beautiful. The way you talk is beautiful your voice is actually music to my ears. its my favorite sound, its what i listen to when in wake up in the morning, and when i go to sleep at night. I hate seeing you cry which is why you never have to worry about those stupid bullys again. You said your parents were making you move and i couldn't let them take you away from me. I love you. I love you more than they ever would more than mine would ever understand. So, i got rid of them both of them parents would never undertand. You don't know me but you will soon. i'll show you my shrine and worship you wether you want me too or not. Since your reading this note i hope your ready for me, i'm already in your house. Those footsteps are mine, and that gentle knocking on the door is me. if you dont answer fast enough it might turn into banging but dont be scared. I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.

Last year I witnessed a couple meet in a hotel reception. I saw them at breakfast and I saw them leave, in the ways described herein. It looked like an unusual story. It was clear they did not meet as lovers. But appeared to leave as lifelong partners.

You’ll be pleased to hear, the rest of what I describe here is from my imagination!

And the names have been changed to protect the guilty ;)

Eloise had worked so hard this year, in spite of everything. She had almost burst with pride when she was named employee of the year.

Perhaps her rocky relationship with Jim, her husband of four years, had spurred her on. Her work had been a distraction.

And now, here she was in this swanky hotel for dinner with her boss, Mr Grayling.

Dave tonight. But Mr Grayling at work.

When she won the award he had joked that he should buy her a bottle of champagne to celebrate.

Unusually for her, Eloise looked at the dishy 48 year old and smiled.

“That would be nice.”

Followed by a beetroot blush as she scurried off, shocked at this mild flirtation.

She had avoided him all week in work, until a sealed envelope appeared on her desk. Inside was a silver invitation card. Penned in precise gold ink was the invitation:

“I have booked dinner for two at the Royal Everglades Hotel. Next Saturday. 8pm. RSVP on my internal number. Just dial and say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. There will be Champagne.”

Eloise blushed. It wasn’t signed. He didn’t need to sign. She knew.

Her heart was like thunder in her ears. Her hands shook. But there was no hint of hesitation.

She picked up the phone and dialled the internal number for her boss.

“Hello. Dave Grayling here.”

His voice poured like honey from the phone. Eloise almost swooned.

Her voice trembled as the word came out.

“Yes”.

She heard his smile.

“Good. Thank you”

And the line went dead.

Her head was swimming for the rest of that week. Partly in anticipation, but also in an unexpected realisation. She was aching to be alone with her boss.

This feeling had been in the back of her emotions all year, since he came to the company. She hadn’t known. But now it was like the curtains had been thrown back and blazing light was exposing her to the truth. She trembled inside.

Eloise told Jim it was a presentation evening for the company awards. No spouses allowed, as they always felt left out. The company, she said, had booked her a room, as one of the award winners.

In truth she booked nothing. She hoped she would not need her own room.

Dave met her at reception. Her stomach fluttered and her smile came naturally. His dark, expensive suit emphasised his masculinity. He was, she thought, beautiful.

Dave also smiled at Eloise, The same thought embedded in his mind. Eloise looked sensational. Figure hugging black dress, short enough to make him yearn for what lay just above the hemline. Her make-up was subtle; the slight gloss on the lipstick was the only hint of how erotic she felt.

He took her hand and kissed her cheek. Eloise smiled up at him. Her hazel eyes surrounded him and he was flooded with desire.

They ate quietly, conversation bouncing between playful and complimentary. No work. No family.

But Champagne. The promise where this began was fulfilled.

And Eloise was tipsy by the end of the meal and the first bottle.

“We should open another bottle,” suggested Dave.

“Why, Mr Grayling! I’m not sure that we should,” giggled Eloise.

“I’m not a big drinker you know and I do feel a little tipsy.”

Her boss smiled widely. Eloise felt dampness touch her knickers.

“Perhaps if you’re worried about getting a little drunk in public, we could order it in my room. You can let your hair down a little.”

“Why, David! Now you tempt me to your room “

Standing up, she took his hand and pulled eagerly, standing him from his chair and leading him to the lift.

Silence in the lift, just one floor up and they emerged almost running to his room.

Inside, Eloise pulled at her hair clips, shaking free her long brunette hair and laughing freely.

“Did you say something about letting my hair down!”

He looked longingly at her. Shoulder-length hair, her dress hugging her figure, Her breasts, ample and firm. He held out his hand and Eloise took it, stepping in to her boss’ embrace.

He pulled her close, covering her red lips with his own. Softly at first, but then urgently as she greedily kissed back, their tongues stroking each other gently.

Her hands went to his strong, muscular arms, then his shoulders before settling on his neck and stroking the back of his head.

In turn, his touched gently up her sides, pressing softly, stroking past her rib cage before caressing the side of each breast. One moved to her back, sending shivers down her spine, before lowering the zip.

He pulled her dress down from the top so it hung loosely, exposing her bra. Eager for her he slipped his hands in and eased out her tits. She stood, like some slut in a film, tits out. She felt alive and he pulled her to him again to kiss.

She pushed her pelvis forward, rubbing slowly against his hard bulge. Everything else could wait. She needed him inside her now. Unknowingly, she had needed him inside her all year.

She led him to the bed, unzipped his zip and urged him to undress, as she lay back on the bed, tits out, dress hitched up around her waist. And then he was naked. She gasped at his beauty. And at his size!

Her knees lifted and she parted her legs further as David moved onto the bed below her. His mouth went to the damp patch on her knickers, sucking and kissing and probing through her underwear. She bucked and writhed, pulling at her own nipples as he touched her.

Gasping she spoke.

“God, David. Fuck me. Please, I need it now.”

Smiling he moved up her body. Briefly suckling each tit, before kissing her again.

He broke the kiss and smiled.

“I thought you might want me to seduce you slowly.”

She smiled back.

“You can do that later. I’ve needed this for a year. That’s slow enough. Now fuck me.”

Always happy to oblige, he finally entered her, slowly but deeply.

Eloise moaned and grabbed his shoulders. He was so big, but she had been wet all night and this eased his passage into her.

Once inside they moved as one together.

Kissing. Touching. Whispering to each other and smiling. Like life-long lovers.

And soon they exploded. Together. Like nothing either had ever known. And Eloise took him all. Everything, deep inside her. She felt him cum in streams. It sent her to deeper ecstasy.

And their eyes met.

And they were united; inseparable, as they kissed and kissed.

They made love all night. Tender; passionate; soft; gentle; wild.

This was everything.

To both of them.

I watched them at breakfast in the morning.

Touching, kissing, smiling and tender.

Like perfect lovers as they laughed and talked.

And neither had been happier.

When they went back to their room they did not make love again. There was no need.

David brought both bags down to his car and Eloise slipped comfortably into the passenger seat. He leaned over and they kissed before the car slipped out of the car park and away.

And she never went home again.

“Georgia, you sure are the prettiest gal I ever did see.”

“Stop yo’ nonsense, Master Thomas,” Georgia said. “Yo mama be whuppin’ us both she see you up on me.”

“My mama can’t see us out here in the field, Georgia gal,” Thomas said, sliding closer to Georgia.

“Master Thomas, you best be getting back up to the house so I can work. I ain’t got time for no games. We ain’t children no more. Things is different now.”

“You sure got that right, Georgia gal,” Thomas said, grabbing hold of her and pulling her body flush with his. “You sure nuf ain’t no child.” His right hand grasped her full, firm 17-year-old breast.

“Master Thomas! My mama done warned me ’bout menfolk. Please don’t,” she said, though not giving much effort to pull away.

“Don’t fight it, Georgia gal. I been wantin’ you feels like all my life,” Thomas said, kissing her neck, hands slowly turning her to face him.

“But it ain’t right. You be takin’ what you want and leavin’ me with my heart broke, no man wantin’ what you already done had and maybe wit’ some baby I can’t feed.”

“Ain’t got to be that way, Georgia gal,” Thomas said, softly against her lips.

“What you mean? Ain’t like you be marryin’ some negro gal that work yo daddy’s fields. I wants me a man who gonna stand by me and take care of me and my chilluns. You ain’t that man, Master Thomas,” Georgia said, trying to pull away.

“I loves you, Georgia gal. I gots to have you,” he said, pulling her to him, pressing his open lips to hers.

“Oh, Tommy boy,” she moaned. And was lost.

***

“Georgia, you have something you wanna tell me?” Mother Sheffield asked.

“No, Mama,” Georgia replied.

“Child, I know you better than you know yourself. Who you been lyin’ with? Yo’ baby gonna be needin’ a daddy.”

Georgia stopped sweeping and looked at her mother. “What baby, Mama?”

“Georgia, you ain’t had your monthly in three months.”

“Oh, Mama, no,” Georgia said, dropping the broom and covering her face. “There ain’t no daddy.”

“Ain’t no woman since Mary had no baby without some man puttin’ it in her. Who is it? I don’t see you favoring nobody. Richard? Samuel?”

“No, ma’am. I ain’t lyin’. I ain’t layin’ with no man.” She paused. “Master Thomas was just lovin’ on me. He said he was gonna take care of me. That he could. That I would be his woman. ’Cause this was his land and no one was gonna tell him he couldn’t.”

“Oh, Georgia,” Mother Sheffield sighed, sitting down hard in a chair by the fire.

“But his mama sent him away when he told her he wanted to have me in the house. He said he would take me wit’ him. But he left without me. Talk is he gonna marry some chit with land in Carolina.

“So there ain’t no daddy, Mama. Just me.”

Sorry, not a proper entry... But...

What about that site is "animated"?

It looks more like a random Jeremy Kyle episode titles generator from what came up for me after multiple clicks.

Nothing there was inspiring in the least.

Sorry.

Your smell still lingers on the sheets.

I Know that I am to be married in a week’s time. I know that if the duke found out he’d kill not only you but me too. We’d been doing this since we were 16. I knew when we first met, I wanted to spend my whole life with you. But you were from the other kingdom. We had plans to runaway, but then Father said he wanted to marry me off And that sort of ruined our plans.

The preparations for wedding had begun. But I can’t let you go. I wish you didnt have to leave every morning. I wish that we could go somewhere else.

Seeing you last night had been a surprise. I thought you’d be busy this week. But when I saw you clinb through the window, my heart pounded and I couldn’t contain my excitement. We talked for a while, before laying in bed.

This morning you were gone. With only your scent left on the sheets.

I sighed and prepared myself for the day. But when I went downstairs, I was met with my Father’s angry stare.

“You disgust me.“ he Said. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me outside, to where I saw you, bloodied and bruised, held back by guards. You met my gaze.

I started to plead with Father, told him to let you go but he refused. He simply said “Kill him.“

I screamed. I couldnt let you go. You are my best friend, my lover, one I hoped one day to be my husband.

I tried to fight the guard but he was stronger. And you were too beaten up. The guard plunged the knife into your chest. I heard you mutter my name. My heart felt as if someone had torn it apart like it was paper.

“EMILIANA. Stop this nonsense now! You are to marry the Duke, not some scum from the enemy’s kingdom.“ My father yelled.

“No! No, this isn’t what I want.... I’ll never marry him!” Before he could stop me, I grabbed the knife and put it through my very own chest. I felt the blood start to seep down my dress. My head felt dizzy. I heard you groan in protest. But I fell, lying next to you. Your brown eyes were the last thing I saw.

First day of class in media writing: "The best reporters are the ones who replace fear of the unknown with curiosity."

[A.N.] I would add, "The second best reporters are the generally nervous ones who square their shoulders and replace fear of the unknown with a trembling bravery--the ones who decide that making a fool of themselves is better than never taking any chances"